Shadow's Eve
by pimp3dout335
Summary: An AU where all your favorite K1 and K2 characters band with new friends against a great evil. A new Sith threat becomes evident to the Jedi council... Will they stop the evil? Or will evil finally reign over the galaxy?
1. Chapter 1 Darkness Falls

**DISCLAIMER**

**I don't own Star Wars stuff. Ok, glad that's done.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

**Hello and thanks for reading this new story. This is an alternate universe where Malak kills Revan and another Sith threat appears alongside him. The Good ol' Ebon Hawkers from K1 and K2 must band together with new friends to defeat this threat. ONE THING!!! This is the first chapter, do not worry, your favorites ARE coming. Oh, and there is some language throughout this story, if its too much, I'm not forcing you to read it. **

**(Written by Pimp3dout335 and Morgianne)**

**Shadow's Eve**

**Chapter One – Darkness falls**

"Hell, there isn't anything on this patrol, just another milk run." Private Francis Vohn muttered.

"Keep it down up there, private." Platoon Sergeant Rekken Voros was as tough as they came. He had seen more action against the Mandalorians then his whole platoon combined at the young age of 25. He had gotten stuck with a bunch of rookies after his squad was wiped out by a friendly fire incident. Badly wounded, he carried every man who he thought was alive to the aid station. Even though none of the squad survived, he was promoted to Platoon Sergeant for his actions and reassigned to another unit.

He and his company had gotten stuck on Eres III because Command had gotten antsy when they saw a single Mandalorian ship land on the world, so they sent in plenty of Republic soldiers to hold the planet. Morale was low from the many defeats they had faced, so Command wanted to kill a few Mandalorians and call it a victory.

To Sergeant Voros and the rest of the platoon, it was just another boring walk through the plains. Long green stems of grass parted ever so slightly as the men meandered across the terrain. The sun cast its glare over the weary faces of the soldiers. At the lead was Private Jon Menski, the Sergeant's favorite person to pick on. Minutes later the private stopped and turned around, looking very uneasy.

"Uh, Sarge?" he asked tentatively.

"What do you want _now_, Menski?" the Sergeant roared.

"There's a metal plate under my feet," he responded.

"There's a piece of metal in my hands. What of it?" the Sergeant retorted.

"I think its some kinda door."

"Wow, the Private's thinking fellas. That's a first, don't ya think, Vohn?"

"Hell yes, sir!" Vohn exclaimed.

Menski lowered his eyes and let the other soldiers examine the door.

After a few moments, Voros shot a look at Menski.

"What are you waiting for, maggot? Open the damn door!"

"Oh, sorry sir. I'll get right on it." He quickly shot into action and opened the massive metal door.

A gaping tunnel was revealed. Massive durasteel walls greeted the twenty soldiers.

"I think we should continue on, sir. Something about this place creeps me out." Menski stuttered.

"Everything creeps you out, Menski. We don't know what this is, and it deserves a look. Gorshun, you're point. I don't feel like having a rookie lead us into unknown territory."

As the soldiers piled in, Vohn laughed at Menski's discomfort.

"Big scary tunnel too much for you?"

"Shut up, _Francis_," came the reply.

In one quick motion, Vohn hit Menski sprawling to the ground.

"Don't EVER call me that again! You're lucky I don't kill you now, scum," he spat.

"Would you ladies quit fighting up there! Get the HELL down here!" the Sergeant called.

Vohn cursed Menski and followed the rest of the soldiers down. Menski lifted himself up and followed.

The squad of Republic soldiers didn't have far to walk before they came upon a large room full of laboratory instruments. There was no light source except in the center, where a man was hibernating inside a large tank that looked almost like a bacta tank. Distracted by their surroundings, the men began to spread out. Soon Corporal Gorshun came across a panel.

"Hey Sarge! I think I found some lights."

The panel sported two dials, one red and another blue, so the Corporal twisted the red one as far as it would go. After a few seconds, nothing happened.

"Huh, maybe I twisted the wrong one." he stated.

It was then that the men began to feel a vibration in the ground. The sounds of unearthly chanting crept into the room. Pictures of pain beyond human comprehension flashed through their minds - women, children, and even grown men, screaming in agony as atrocities were enacted upon them. Unknown to the soldiers, a dark red cloud began to form inside of the tank. The scenes playing out inside their heads increased in volume and strength. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, it all stopped. The soldiers fell in shock from everything they had just witnessed, some mumbling incoherently. Even Rekken Voros, who had seen the untold horrors of battle, was stunned.

After a few minutes, the men slowly recovered. They all sat in a circle, talking softly of what they had just seen. A sound of thumping quieted the men. It was followed by a crash. The soldiers reacted quickly, all lowering their guns at the center of the room. What was once the man inside the tube was now a deformed being. His flesh was now rotting away, and in some places the bone was exposed. Blood dripped from his mouth and his eyes were crimson. In this state, he should have been dead. He screamed in anguish and dark forces echoed throughout the lab. The power was so intense that Voros' front line of men were ripped into flaming chunks of singed meat and thrown back, dead.

With only half his squad left, he screamed the order, "OPEN FIRE!!!"

Lines of laser fire tore into the being, but he just laughed. His palm opened, and a lightsaber was pulled from the wall, landing in his hand. Voros had heard stories of the Sith, but he knew nothing of their power. The rate of fire increased as the men became desperate and screamed oaths at the Sith. The deflecting rounds came back, felling the soldiers by their own firepower.

One round tore into Voros' leg. Swearing, he fell to the ground, primed a thermal detonator, and threw it screaming, "DEFLECT THIS, BASTARD!"

The resulting explosion collapsed the roof.

Voros' world went black.

He woke up, coughing from the dust and building materials scattered everywhere. The blast had thrown him into the hallway. He scanned the area and saw that Vohn and Menski were laying a little farther back than he. The Sergeant checked both of them for signs of life, then grabbed their uniforms, dragging them along. Rekken suffered from a laser burn on his leg and burns all over his body from the explosion. It was painful as hell, but not enough to slow the veteran down. To him, the loss of his men hurt more than any battle wound could.

The soldier pulled his two unconscious comrades over the plains of Eres III back to the field hospital. When he was in yelling range of the hospital, he screamed, "Medic! Medic! I've got wounded dammit! Medic!" Six medics quickly rushed from the tents with stretchers to help the three soldiers. They loaded them onto the stretchers, then marched them into the hospital. Bacta was applied to the Sergeant's wounds while he lay there. A familiar face made her way into the room.

"Skye?" he asked uncertainly. Skye Karas was a damn fine field medic who had been there through many of Rekken's campaigns. Though only the youthful age of 20, she had been patching up wounded soldiers for almost two years. Rekken couldn't help but smile whenever he saw her. It was always good to see a woman who didn't pass out at the sight of blood, and her sarcastic sense of humor always brightened the smoke-filled battlefields.

"Rekken! It's great to see you again! What happened? Pull the pin on a grenade and forget it was in your hand again?" she smirked.

The soldier's reply wasn't as lighthearted, "My squad was attacked by some sort of Sith. Only Menski and Vohn made it out with me."

"Oh, Rekken, I'm sorry," Skye said softly, the smile vanishing from her face. She could see the pain crossing unbidden over her friend's features, and she lightly touched his hand in a comforting gesture. Rekken managed a slight grimace before turning away.

Skye frowned in quiet contemplation as she bandaged Rekken's wounds. He stared stoically ahead, refusing to wince at the sting of the medicine she applied. He always had been tough, but there was much more under the surface to this war-hardened veteran. When Skye had first joined the war effort as a field medic at the age of 18, young, carefree, and full of ideals, she had had no way of being prepared for the blatant slaughter of thousands upon thousands of Republic soldiers. It had been Rekken Voros who had taken her under his wing, showing her what it meant to be tough and prepared to survive in the face of any odds. With his guidance, she had quickly become accustomed to the bloody battles and was no longer fazed at the sight of seemingly endless carnage.

Skye finished tending to Rekken's wounds, and he closed his eyes in exhaustion. Giving him a final passing glance, Skye gathered up the supplies, placing them back in their chests. Thankfully, it was the end of her shift. Another minute and she'd end up on the floor looking like a rookie who couldn't hold his juma.

"OH. MY. BLASTER BOLTS. How is it that so many soldiers manage to get wounded when there hasn't been a single encounter with the Mandalorians yet?" demanded Jada Byre, groaning as she stretched her sore limbs.

Skye laughed. "How is it that some field medics manage to act like they have perpetual PMS?"

"Shut it, you," Jada scowled, as she good-naturedly tossed a spare bandage roll in Skye's direction.

Skye ducked and waved at her best friend as Jada disappeared into the women's barracks, playfully sticking her tongue out at Skye as she did. Instead of following her friend, though, Skye began walking to the medics' designated rest tent. Although it had been a long day, Skye wasn't quite ready to sleep yet.

The wind softly blew her wavy, golden-brown hair about her face, and her normally sky blue eyes, the inspiration for her name, had turned a deeper, midnight blue to reflect the coming night.

Skye ducked into the tent, promptly colliding with its sole occupant.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, an embarrassed flush spreading across her face.

"No, it is I who should be sorry," replied a gentle, softly accented voice. The speaker held out a hand and helped Skye up. "Are you alright?" he asked, a note of concern touching his query.

"Yeah, I was just getting acquainted with the ground. Apparently it's in good health," Skye joked sheepishly as she looked at the speaker for the first time. A wave of some indescribable force hit her as she stared into his bright blue eyes softened by an aura of kindness. His silky white-gold hair hung lightly about his face adding to the warm persona he seemed to exude. A voice in the back of Skye's mind whispered, _"He will be important to you."_

Skye was awakened from her reverie when the man gave a startled laugh. His eyes twinkled in genuine merriment as though he had never expected to hear good-natured joking in a place like _this_ – a place about to be torn by the brutalities of war.

"Ah, well that is always good to hear," he smiled. "You are sure you're alright?"

"_Yes_," Skye rolled her eyes. "If you don't mind me asking, who exactly are you anyway?"

"Mical," he replied. "Mical Kelson. I'm one of the new field medic recruits." He smiled at her again. Skye was beginning to wish he'd stop. His evident kindness, charming personality, and overall gorgeousness were beginning to affect her in ways that she did not want. She had long ago sworn that she would _never_ fall for any man. How could she, when…?

Breaking the sorrowful trail of thoughts that were beginning to overtake her, Skye smiled ironically as she declared, "I'm Skye Karas. And welcome to hell. Although not too much has happened here yet, once the Mandalorian brutes start their rampage, we're going to be up to our elbows in blood. So…I hope you can handle it."

"I think I can," Mical replied seriously.

Skye looked at Mical appraisingly. "I think you can too." Extending a hand, she grinned and proclaimed, "Welcome to the team!"

"I am honored…Skye," Mical answered as he took her hand.

Skye found herself falling into those gorgeous blue eyes. _"Skye! Stop it!"_ half of her mentally screamed. The other half wasn't listening.

"Well, isn't this romantic," grunted Robert Forsen, the chief field medic, announcing his entrance. He shot a devilish grin at the still clasped hands of Mical and Skye. Skye instantly withdrew her hand.

"Oh no, don't mind me. Please, continue," Robert smirked.

Skye glared. "Is there anything you seriously need, Robert? Because I'm off-shift and I'm going to bed."

"Uh, yes now that you mention it." Robert's expression instantly turned serious. He paused.

"Well?" Skye prompted. She didn't trust him for one second. She and Robert loved to annoy each other, and she swore that he was struggling not to laugh behind his serious façade.

Instead of immediately answering her, Robert took a swig of juma and sighed contentedly. _This is good stuff. Who knows when we'll get more of it?_

"Robert!" Skye insisted impatiently. "I need to go to bed, and I don't have time for old cootheads drinking juma!"

"Patience, young one," he grinned wickedly. "Otherwise you will never reach enlightenment."

Skye stifled the urge to tell the old fogey to go to hell. Otherwise she might very well find herself working a triple shift.

"That's better," Robert said as Skye's face reddened with suppressed frustration. Oh, she was fun to tease. "Look, I guess you've noticed that we just got some greenhorn field medics." Robert nodded toward Mical.

"Anyways," he continued, "I need some people to take on these greenies in a kind of tutoring program. You know, show them the ropes and all of that stuff."

Skye shrugged. That wasn't so bad. "Sure."

Robert chugged another swallow of the precious juma. "Good. Then I have your cooperation." His eyes took on a wicked gleam. "And since you and Mical already seem to know each other so well, he'll be your pet greenie. Just make sure to feed him."

Skye choked out a strangled, "What?!"

Robert looked at her severely over the rim of his bottle of juma. "That won't be a problem will it?" he asked dangerously.

Skye glanced at Mical who was looking at her with a huge smile beginning to form on his face. _Oh frack_. "No, sir," she sighed.

"Good. Now leave," Robert dismissed with a wave of his hand.

Once they had walked a few paces from the tent, Mical turned to Skye with an eager smile. "I am thrilled to be working with you."

"Uh, great. Look, I really need to get to bed," Skye said while stifling a yawn.

"Of course," Mical replied hastily. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I should have realized." He paused. "I will see you tomorrow then?" he asked hopefully.

Against her better judgment, Skye smiled. "Yeah, tomorrow."

Mical bowed and touched Skye's hand one last time before departing. Skye watched him go while struggling with her inner thoughts. Robert knew about her issues with becoming close to men. So why was he making her work with someone that she would undoubtedly become attracted to? She was going to have to be extremely careful and make sure that Mical understood that this was a purely professional relationship.

_**Wait a minute**._ _Did he just bow?! Is this guy for real?_ Shaking her head in disbelief, Skye turned to the women's barracks.

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Robert Forsen chuckled to himself as the intoxicating effects of the juma began to manifest themselves. Skye was a beautiful woman, and it was about time that she got over her irrational fears of intimacy. She needed some fun in her life and so did that stick-in-the-mud Mical guy. Robert snorted. While getting to know the greenie earlier, he had learned through careful questioning and all-around nosiness that Mical had never _ever_ even _dated_ or kissed a woman before. So when he had seen the bookworm being affected by Skye's presence in about the same manner as almost every other guy who first met her…you know, like a love-sick puppy…until Skye socked them in the jaw for hitting on her, that is…Robert had decided that they would be good for each other. After all, she hadn't hit Mical yet, so that had to be a promising….

Robert passed out, the last drops of the juma sloshing about the bottom of the bottle.

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On the other side of the field hospital, the sarge decided to pay his comrades a visit.

"How're the sleepin' beauties doing?" he chuckled as he stuck his head into their tent.

"What the _hell_ just happened, Sarge? There was that ass ugly creature kicking the hell outta the squad." Vohn then looked concerned, "Who else made it?"

Rekken's eyes fell onto Menski "Sadly private, we're the only ones who made it. I threw a thermal detonator and it collapsed the roof, saving our sorry asses."

Vohn just laid back, his mind on all the friends who had just died. He remembered Corporal Gorshun got it when that Sith freak screamed. Jason got nailed when a shot deflected right into his face. He refused to think of the rest. His mind traveled to the time before the Sith broke out of the tube. _Wait, WAIT._

"Sarge, wasn't that guy normal before Gorshun twisted the dial? He looked like a damn regular human."

Rekken gave it some thought and agreed, "Know what you mean private. Did you see the panel?"

"Uh, yeah I was standing right behind Gorshun when he twisted some red dial."

"Yeah, I saw it too." piped up Menski.

"That decides it then, boys. We're gonna be investigating what the hell that was. Don't tell any damn medics. They'll come up some weird-ass diagnosis for us like 'Combat induced hysteria.' We'll tell my friend Skye Karas though. She's a tough person. Get some beauty sleep, ladies. I'll see you in the morning."

Voros felt a strange connection with these men. They had gone through hell and back just with him. Vohn was of medium height and muscular build. He had black hair which was slightly spiked, _way_ against regulation. Voros was a taller figure, with more muscle mass than both of his comrades. His hair was a dark brown and he sported a standard marine-style haircut. Scars raked themselves across Voros' form. Greenish-blue eyes always seemed to be scanning the area around him. Menski was the exact opposite of his sergeant; he was short and somewhat scrawny. He had light brown hair which fell over dark brown eyes. His face wore a timid expression, not the tough, threatening look that his comrades wore. Timid or not, this man had just survived an attack from a Sith. Enough to give him respect, but hell, the Sergeant didn't respect anything… except his superior officers.

Rekken limped his way back to his tent. It was finally time to sleep and he was really damn happy for that fact. "Don't worry Sith, wherever you run, I will find you. For every man you killed that was under my command, I swear there will be hell to pay."

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_Who am I? _

_I am a Sith._

_I will call myself… Darth Vilad._

_What is my goal?_

_To destroy all light._

_How will I do that?_

_Kill everything that dares to stop me._


	2. Chapter 2 New Findings

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Hello folks! We've been steamrollin' through this story and guess what? A chapter has been born!

Ladies and Gentlemen... Children of all ages (13+ preferably) Presenting Hawker #2...

ATTON RAND

(braces from inevitable fangirl screams)

Reviews are appreciated D

Enjoy,

Pimp3dout335

(Written with Morgianne)

**Chapter Two – New Findings**

Skye blearily blinked as the first rays of dawn touched her face. _Morning already?_ Well, there was no point in sleeping in. That would just make it harder for her to get ready.

Skye flipped over onto her stomach and pulled herself halfway over her bunk, fighting the dizzying effects of the blood rushing to her head. Yep, her bunkmate was still asleep.

"Jada," she called softly while looking at the dark-haired woman from her upside-down vantage point. Jada made no response.

"Jada!" Skye insisted. Jada only groaned and pulled the standard-issue, gray cot blanket over her head.

Skye thought for a moment. "Jada, there's a designer shoe sale outside."

Jada's eyes immediately opened. "THERE IS?!" She flew up only to knock her head on the bottom of Skye's bunk. "OW!"

"Morning," Skye said sweetly as she lightly slid off her bunk.

Jada glared at Skye while cautiously probing the lump threatening to form on her head. "That was cruel," she grumbled. "How can you take advantage of my weakness? Do you know _how long_ it's been since I've been on a decent shopping trip? I tell you, when I joined the war effort, I had no idea that I was going to be deprived of the very essence of my soul."

"You, my dear, have problems," Skye remarked absentmindedly as she pulled her hair together with a barrette.

"Me? Ha! At least I know the difference between my purse and my handbag! You, on the other hand, are seriously fashion-challenged."

"We're in the middle of a _war_," Skye said, eyeing Jada as though she feared she might have finally lost it.

Jada gave an unladylike snort. "Yeah, so? Let's just say I have an appreciation for the finer things in life. Shopping is not a pastime, it's an art."

Skye had finished dressing and was on the verge of leaving the barracks when she suddenly turned around. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. There are a lot of newly-arrived medics, so Robert will probably ask you to guide one for a while. Just until they learn what's going on, you know?"

"Awwww," Jada whined. "You already get one or something?"

Skye's expression became guarded. "Um, yes," she replied, a little too quickly.

Jada arched an eyebrow and stared fixedly at her friend. "Oh?"

"His name's Mical," Skye said, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"He?" Jada smiled suggestively.

"Oh, shut up!" Skye snapped. "He's a new field medic that needs a bit of training, okay? That's _all_."

"I'll bet," Jada winked.

Skye gave her a look of pure disgust and stormed out of the barracks. Jada laughed heartily as she finished brushing out her glossy, midnight-black hair. The gorgeous locks contrasted perfectly with the pale sheen of her skin. Elegant looks such as hers could only come from being born into nobility. Jada's father was a prominent senator, and she had wanted for nothing as a child.

Jada bit her lip as she thought of her family. They had been immensely proud when she had decided to join the war effort as a field medic. The Byre family were staunch supporters of the Republic. They were a little worried about how well Jada would be able to cope, but Jada had risen to the challenge and been able to live in surroundings much less glorious than those she had been used to. Why, except for occasional bouts of anxiety stemming from her addiction to shopping, Jada Byre was doing just fine.

Sergeant Rekken Voros sat cleaning his Republic-issued assault rifle. His leg had healed nicely over the night, but it still burned like hell. A head poked itself into the tent.

"Sergeant Voros, sir?" a private asked.

"Who the hell else would it be?" came the reply.

"General Eiden wants you to report to his office immediately on the other side of camp."

"Got it, private."

The soldier left Voros to himself. _Probably gonna wonder what the hell happened yesterday. Truth is, I don't have a goddamn clue._

The veteran quickly slipped into his dress uniform and headed to the General's office. Two MP guards stood outside the door.

"Identification, sir?"

The sergeant handed over his ID card and let them take the retinal scans.

"Right this way, sir."

The office was fairly large. Holograms decorated the desk, readouts scrolled across screens, reports came streaming in; it was complete chaos. With a click of a button, it all stopped.

"At ease, Sergeant Voros. Please, take a seat."

The NCO relaxed and sat down in front of the general.

"Sergeant, it appears as if seventeen men went MIA yesterday and you say that they are dead. What the hell happened to them, Sergeant?"

"Honestly sir, I have no idea."

General Eiden's face visibly reddened. "I'm an extremely busy man, Voros. IF I DON'T HAVE A GODDAMN REPORT ON MY DESK TOMORROW, YOU will be discharged. Men died yesterday, and it wasn't Mandalorians. I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOUR RECORD! I need to know what the hell happened. If you don't know, FIND OUT."

"Yes sir!"

He made his way to the door, and on his way out, an MP grinned. "Heard quite the ass-chewing. Don't worry 'bout it."

Voros shot a glance to the MP. "Ha, I'm not, he just called your name next."

"What?!"

"Just screwing with you, Leton."

The MP laughed and let the soldier pass. Thoughts raced through Voros' mind. For once in his life, he didn't know what to do. He figured he, Menski, and Vohn could check out the local library for something. Perhaps new articles. He was going to need some other form of help, however. Menski and Vohn left much to be desired intelligence-wise, and if Voros could help it, he never read anything except the model number on his assault rifle.

Maybe Skye could give him a hand. She was a medic after all. He decided it was a good idea and grabbed a massive, eight-seat landspeeder and Menski and Vohn, then headed toward the medical staff's lounge.

Skye and her friend Jada were outside eating breakfast, laughing. Some blonde-haired man with a book was seated a few yards away. He kept looking over at Skye with a sort of devotion in his eyes. Poor bastard, probably never got any loving in his life. It seemed as if the two women were ignoring him. Rekken grinned. The man looked like a complete wuss. He'd ignore him too.

Skye waved Rekken over to her with a small smile. Rekken wasted no time in speaking.

"Skye, I'm going to look into what happened yesterday. Can you give me a little help? I'm headed over to the library with these two dumbasses, and hell, they're not gonna do much."

Skye groaned. "I'm going to be on duty in a couple of minutes. Though I COULD use a break from it. Oh, what the hell, Robby won't notice. Come on Jada, you're coming too."

"Are you doing some research? I could most likely be of assistance," the blond-haired man piped up eagerly.

Skye gave a hesitant smile. "Sure, Mical. You can come."

Vohn's mouth dropped open, "Wow, is this guy for real?"

"I believe so, private. But I think Mr. Blondie here can help," Rekken observed.

Mical helped Skye enter the speeder, and the three soldiers visibly rolled their eyes in disgust.

"I hate you sarge! I'm stuck with some pansy for a few hours in a goddamn library!"

"Glad the feeling is mutual, princess," Sarge grinned at Vohn.

"What is your business, Sergeant?" the Lieutenant at the gate out of the field hospital asked.

"I'm on medical leave, sir. On my way to the library."

The Lieutenant stared at the soldier like he was nuts. _Where the hell did this guy get hit?_

"Ok, you're free to go." The speeder with its occupants had just cleared the gate when a man stepped in their way.

"Looks like Skye and Jada are tryin' to skip out on work. Being a bad influence on greenie here aren't we?" Chief Medic Robert Forsen said behind an empty bottle of juma.

Jada and Skye began to sputter their alibis, but Robert stopped them. "I won't notice IF you guys get me a ride to the nearest cantina… this was my last bottle." He almost teared up at these words.

Jada patted the seat beside her, "Join the party, Robby!"

Robert glared. "I'm not that damn drunk. It's Robert or sir to you. Actually, just for you, let's keep it sir."

Robert beamed at all the young'uns and took his seat. "Ah, I see we're taking good care of your pet greenie. You should try gizka - they're almost as easy to take care of."

"Glad I don't have one," snorted Jada.

"That's because they'd turn into the second worst damn medic the galaxy has ever seen, taking their seat beside the queen of bad medics." Robert retorted. "Skye may be annoying as hell, but at least she does her job the _right_ way."

Rekken turned with a severe expression. "I don't have time for this! I have a serious situation on my hands, so either settle down or GET OUT," he growled menacingly, daring anyone to respond.

Jada scowled, but said nothing. Rekken nodded curtly, fired up the speeder, and shot forward.

The ride into town was completely uneventful. Well, maybe if you didn't count the constant complaints coming from Menski having to use the bathroom.

"Dammit Menski! Shut up already! You're whinin' isn't gonna get me to go any faster, dumbass!" the Sarge roared.

Menski shut up…but three minutes later he started right back up. The Sergeant was getting royally pissed, but the town finally loomed ahead.

"This is my stop, Sergeant. Thanks for the ride." Forsen said as they neared the cantina.

"Anytime. Well aren't we lucky, the library is right across the street." The Sergeant deactivated the speeder and everyone clambered out. Mical again helped Skye and got an even louder chorus of groans from the soldiers.

Jada threw a particularly nasty grin at Skye, and she blushed. Skye determinedly pushed past Mical without looking at him.

Skye tried to clear her thoughts as she led the way up the crumbling, stone steps to the ancient library. The stern faces of mythical creatures immortalized in stone gazed down at her as she tried the door. It was open, so she quietly slipped in, motioning for the others to do the same.

This library was unlike any Skye had ever encountered before. Although the structure was incredibly old, the inside was full of the latest archiving technologies. Not many sentients frequented the place, but an unseen archivist faithfully ensured that the collection was constantly updated for the few souls who sought solace in knowledge. Skye sighed imperceptibly. _This_ was a place where she felt at home.

"Alright," she said briskly, turning on her heel to face the rest of the party. "Rekken, what exactly are we looking for? Give me an idea of what happened so that I can try to find something useful."

Skye smothered an amused grin at the looks on her friends' faces. Rekken and the two soldiers under his command were eying the bookcases holding the holovids suspiciously, as though the books might suddenly come to life and attack them. Jada was slumping dejectedly, a look of despair coming to her face as she realized that she was actually stuck in a library.

Mical, however, wore an air of comfortable familiarity. He was probably the only one here who would be of any help. As Skye caught his eye, he smiled cautiously, as well he might when considering the distant manner in which Skye had been treating him. Skye felt a little guilty about that, but when she showed any signs of cordiality to Mical, Jada was on her like a kath hound.

Rekken gruffly briefed her on the incident with the Sith, while Skye listened, dismayed.

Mical also seemed worried. "You say that after the dial was twisted, the man was suddenly infused with the dark power of the Force?"

Rekken eyed Mical pensively. "No, I said that he had a hell of a lot of power – evil power."

Mical nodded with a far-away look in his eyes, only half-listening. "I had not thought it was possible to induce Force sensitivity…unless the man was already Force sensitive, but that wouldn't explain the…maybe…," he murmured.

"You sure seem to know a lot about this 'Force'," Rekken said accusingly.

Mical shrugged. "I…study. The Jedi may be hated for their inaction, but…" he trailed off.

Skye frowned in contemplation. The implications of what had happened were overwhelming. "You're sure this wasn't just a vision brought on by trauma?" she asked desperately.

Rekken was about to argue angrily when Mical spoke up.

"No, I do not think so. All three of these soldiers saw the same thing. Besides, there would be other symptoms – symptoms that none of them are exhibiting."

"You're right," Skye sighed. "I don't know where to begin looking though." She turned to Mical. "Do you?" she pleaded.

Mical gave an apologetic half-shrug. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "This is not something I have come across before. Still, if there _is_ anything here, I should think that together you and I would be able to find what we need," he finished optimistically.

"Hey!" objected Vohn. "Don't I count? Or do you think I'm too dumb to help?"

"I'd say you are," muttered Rekken. Vohn ignored him.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to imply such a thing," Mical apologized hastily.

Vohn flashed a cocky grin. "Ah, don't worry 'bout it. I was just messing with your head. I'm really _not_ much help here."

"Not much help anywhere," Rekken commented.

Vohn shot Rekken a murderous glance. Rekken only smiled the smile of someone who has the upper hand and knows it. "Don't provoke a superior officer, Vohn," he warned, still grinning.

Skye and Mical sat down like starving animals at the table, taking as many records as possible.

"Well, I usually _would _make you guys help them. But, men, this is a lost battle. No point in wasting good soldiers. Get the hell out of here and to the cantina…THAT is an order!" Rekken wasn't sure if his men would be able to make it to the door without fainting, but he had to risk it.

When the first ray of sunlight hit their skin, they dropped to their knees, gasping for air. "I'm alive!" shouted Vohn joyfully.

They made their way across the street into the cantina. The dingy interior cast dark shadows on the room. The stained floors looked as if they hadn't been washed in months, shards of glass littered the room in abundance, and many stools lay broken. The population was minimal at best, and a few people were passed out on the counter, Robert Forsen among them. His face wore an expression of utter contentment as empty bottles were strewn alongside him.

In one corner of the room, two men sat playing pazaak. One was extremely tall and beefy. The other one was of medium height and not nearly as physically imposing. He had longer, dark hair which was somewhat spiked and combed off to one side. His roguish good looks matched his scoundrel's attitude perfectly.

"Well, looks like I win _again._ You know, I hate to tell ya, but this game requires the ability to _think_," the man smirked as he swept the winnings to his side of the table.

The larger man scowled menacingly while cracking his knuckles.

The scoundrel didn't take the hint as he continued, "So, were you just born a defect? Or did the muscle enhancers you've apparently been popping screw you up? Because, man, you made some idiot moves there."

"Rand, I'm warning you," the other growled.

Rand apparently couldn't stop himself. He grinned while saying, "I've seen gizka play better hands."

For the large man, it was the snapping point. "That's it you dirty little bastard!" he yelled as he snatched a vibro dagger from his belt. In one quick motion, the fellow named Rand got a stab right to the arm.

His face turned pale as he looked down at the blade stuck into his arm. The man drew the dagger out and prepared for another stab when laser fire stopped him. Lines of fire tore into his back and neck. He collapsed under the sheer number of hits he sustained.

"Don't worry," Sergeant Voros reassured the small crowd around the scene. "We had our guns set on stun. Sadly, this son of a bitch will live. Vohn, drag his ass outta here. Menski, alert some authorities around here."

The two soldiers went about to their tasks as Rekken went to tend to the fallen civilian. He assessed the wound. "Large stab wound to the arm… You should survive, unless, however, it gets infected. Then your arm would turn green and I would give you about 48 standard hours to live." Voros failed in bedside manner. He wasn't a medic dammit! Not his job to make some weak civilian feel good.

"Thanks," Rand grumbled. "Always nice to have someone like you to take care of the wounded. The name is Atton Rand, by the way." He offered his hand.

"Platoon Sergeant Rekken Voros." The Sergeant accepted the handshake.

"I asked for a name, man. Not a rank."

Local police officers arrived and promptly began to interrogate Atton and his attacker without even getting him medical attention. Two hours rolled by before Atton was released from their iron grip.

"Damn, I don't feel too good." Atton grumbled to the Sergeant.

The wound had clotted, but it didn't seem like it was healing well enough. "I could probably take you over to the field hospital. Not much action, so there are a lot of doctors free. They'd have you patched up in no time."

Skye let out a frustrated sigh as she slammed the latest useless stack of holovids aside. "What exactly are we looking for?! I can't find anything even remotely helpful!"

Mical echoed the sigh and offered a tired smile as he turned to look in Skye's eyes. "I do not know," he murmured. "However, we should continue searching for the sake of your friend, the Sergeant. _Something_ happened. Something with serious implications."

"I know," Skye said in a defeated voice.

"Ooh!" exclaimed Jada. "Look what I found!"

Skye jumped up from the table excitedly. "Did you find something that might explain what happened?"

"What? Oh, no, not _that_," Jada said, impatiently waving her hand. "I found an article with tips for the shopaholic's sore feet…" She stopped as Skye glared. "Oh, some people are _no_ fun," she complained as she moved off, away from Skye's lethal gaze.

Skye was about to chase Jada and give her an earful, when she felt a slight pressure on her right shoulder. She turned to find Mical's hand. Mical smiled gently at her.

"It's okay," he reassured her softly. "Come on, we can do this ourselves. Jada has, um, important issues to worry about."

Skye found herself smiling. "Alright," she agreed. She followed Mical on a winding pathway through the shelves filled with knowledge. If only they could find the knowledge they needed!

Mical stopped suddenly, and Skye nearly crashed into him. "This is a new section," he called over his shoulder.

Skye stood on tiptoe, peering over him. "I believe you're right," she mused.

Mical paused for a second, closing his eyes. Skye felt a shiver travel down her spine – not necessarily a bad one, but strange all the same. "Um, Mical?" she ventured.

He didn't respond. Skye tapped his arm lightly, hoping for some reaction, but again there was no response. Skye backed up, about to go find Jada for help, when Mical opened his eyes. They were slightly glazed and unfocused.

Abruptly, he turned and kneeled before a dusty drawer in plain sight, yet so nondescript that one's eyes simply traveled over it without taking notice. Opening the drawer, Mical began to sort through the various holovids before selecting one. "This is it," he declared with such surety, that it didn't occur to Skye to not believe him.

"Brilliant," she breathed, taking it from him. "Let's find Jada," she continued, exiting the aisle briskly.

"Find me for what?"

"Mical thinks we've got something," Skye remarked. She inhaled deeply. At the expectant looks of her companions, she keyed open the holovid's files.

Nothing could have prepared the three for the chilling revelations encased within the simple object.

_Pain? Oh it feels so good. Something other than pain lingers… What is it... Ah, it is hunger. A far greater hunger than those stirred by lusts or greed. No, this is much more. This is a hunger for death._

Jada and Mical crowded around Skye, their unhappy disbelief growing with each word in the article before them: _"Today, renowned scientist Uthran Thrapp has been killed by city police. Just as dawn settled over the city, Thrapp was reported to be running through the streets holding explosives and babbling incoherently. Officer Nor Honar attempted to stop him. According to Honar, Thrapp screamed that he had to destroy it. Honar questioned Thrapp about what had to be destroyed and Thrapp said "It holds the power of the Force! I must stop it! It can infuse someone with the Force! The Force powers of the deceased!" Further attempts at communication were failed. Thrapp stabbed Honar with a stunner and ran. Honar tried to wound the man with a blaster shot, but the round was fatal. When investigators searched Thrapp's apartment, they found his personal datapad completely wiped. Investigators searched for Thrapp's lab, but as of now, it has not been found. Investigators have also stated that the cause of Thrapp's outburst was stress-induced insanity and that his rants probably meant nothing. LIBRARY OVERRIDE Information: Document added to databanks 3.4 standard months ago. Last Updated: 3.4 months ago. For further information please contact librarian. PRESS O to end session."_

"Well, that may explain what happened to your friend, Sergeant Rekken Voros," Mical said slowly, still reeling from the disbelief.

"I guess we can ask Rekken about all the details. Mical, can you ask the librarian for a copy of the article?" Skye asked.

"It would be my pleasure," he replied.

"Jada, go fire up the speeder and get those drunks from the bar."

When Jada left the library, she found Rekken, Menski and Vohn powering the speeder up. Robert lay passed out in the back seat, and some _gorgeous_ rascal was sitting with them holding a wound on his arm.

"Well, what _do _we have here?" Jada asked Voros while checking out Atton.

"Someone wishing these sons of bitches picked me up sooner. Dammit Rekken! Took you twenty-five years to find me!"

"What's hot stuff's name?" Jada prodded Voros.

"We'll refer to him as Atton. Not hotstuff," he answered, rolling his eyes. "Where the hell are Mical and Skye?"

"I don't know, but do you mind if I sit beside Atton?" She never took her eyes off of her new-found lust.

As she took her seat, leaving no room to breathe, Atton grinned. "Gimme some space, woman? You'd be the sixth today! Not that I mind, just that I'm a little tired," he winked.

"EW! You nerf-herder! Jon, switch seats with me. I don't feel like sitting next to space garbage that doesn't seem to bathe!"

"But…" Menski stuttered.

"NOW!!!"

Voros grinned as Menski scuttled out of his seat and next to Atton. Jada sat with a huff and didn't look back.

Mical and Skye emerged from the library with a package.

"Rekken! Plug this into your datapad… I think it may shed light onto our mystery." Skye unfolded the package and gave him the memory disk. He promptly inserted it into his datapad and watched the words scroll across the screen. Mical watched as Rekken's face grew evermore grim as he looked over the article again and again.

"It makes sense now. It really does." Voros grimaced. "Could that possibly mean that the bastard is infused with the dark forces of every dead Sith Lord? If so, I'd better get back to Command. Things just got a helluva lot worse."

As everyone took their seats, Skye took a moment to look back at the newcomer.

"Oh, who's this?" she asked quizzically.

"Don't ask." Jada growled.

_They fear me. It feels good, very good to watch them scream in fear and attempt to escape. The greatest joy of them all: They never will._

On the way back, Mical seemed distracted. "Are you alright, Mical?" Skye turned her attention to him.

"Oh yes, I'm quite alright. I appreciate your concern." He smiled at her.

The speeder stopped at the Republic's installation. No guards came to greet them.

"What the hell?" Rekken muttered as he walked to the gatehouse. This wasn't normal behavior. Every other time they were like Kath hounds jumping onto prey.

He knocked on the plasteel door of the gatehouse. No one came out. He pushed the button for the door, and it opened with a swish. Instead of a Republic guard, a mutilated corpse of what used to be one dropped out and into his arms. Cut lines ran up and down his battered body, and a stab wound created a massive void in his face. His mouth was still there, and it was opened in a never-ending silent scream of horrendous pain.

"Holy hell…" Rekken dropped the body to the ground. He backed away. Back at the speeder, his companions stared at the scene of brutality. Vohn had never seen his Sergeant so shocked before in his life. He opened a compartment and grabbed the two rifles that occupied it. He walked slowly to the still-staring Sergeant and handed him a rifle.

"Let's check the rest of the camp." Vohn said.

"And avenge all of our fallen brethren," finished Voros with the coldest voice that Vohn had ever heard.

"Tell the others to get blaster pistols and follow us. I want to have as many armed as we can."

Francis obeyed his superior and rounded up the others, including the now conscious Robert.

Robert had been filled in on the way. He seemed alright, but his speech was slurred.

"Letsh go get that Shith shon of a bish," he yodeled as he drew his sidearm.

"We're one weapon short, sir." Vohn reported. It had been the first time Voros had heard Vohn address him as sir.

"Robert stays unarmed then. We need a _sober _team." Voros ordered.

"Bashtard…" Robert growled as Vohn wrestled the weapon away from him.

"Okay people. Wedge formation. Menski and Vohn take the ends. I'll be in the center. Keep your eyes open people - being alert could be the deciding decision of our survival."

The non-soldiers had a difficult time forming themselves up, but with some direction from Voros, they were ready.

Once they had cleared the gate, it was as Voros suspected. Carnage greeted them. Carbon scoring lined the walls and equipment lay scattered across the terrain. They had put up one hell of a fight, but they were no match for a Sith. Bodies lay slaughtered in the formations they had created, indicating _some _attempt at an organized defense. They made their way to the command center. Lines of massacred soldiers lay in smoking heaps. It seemed as if the last stand had taken place here. More blaster scarring dotted the terrain, testament to the fact of frenzied and panicked firing. Many of the bodies were missing limbs, some were missing heads. Hastily built defenses had been shot to hell, most likely from the deflection of their own fire. The Sergeant ordered the others to take position outside of the building.

Inside, a couple more bodies lay in a path to the commander's room. Rekken grimaced, these men had died defending their leader. General Eiden's body lay in the middle of his room. His face was set in defiance, not fear. He was not afraid of death - he had died in honor, defending the Republic. That is the way he had wanted to die. For that, Rekken was grateful.

The soldier walked outside and their search continued in vain. An entire Republic army had been slaughtered at the hands of one man. After they had completed their search, the small group sat down in a circle around a small campfire that had managed to still burn. The eerie silence of the scene settled around them.

Atton broke the silence with, "You know, we should get out of here."

Rekken looked up, "I agree, maybe we should ally with some Jedi to defeat this new threat. One question, how? Only ships here are parked destroyers. Good luck flying one of them with eight people."

"I have a ship, _The Scarlet Eagle._ Should get us to where we need to go." Atton replied.

"It's decided then, we should move out."

/Doomandgloom

Hehe. Hoped you liked it.


	3. Chapter 3 A Plot Revealed

**Chapter 3 – A Plot Revealed**

Atton sighed as he sat down into his padded pilot's seat. He grumbled as he mulled over the thought of having so many people on his ship. Well, the ship WAS pretty big, but he really only liked to keep to himself. At least that Jada woman was around. _She's pretty fine,_ he grinned as he started up the engine. The freighter flared up and flew away from Eres III.

_Dammit,_ he thought as he typed in the coordinates. How had he always been one to get mixed up in the wrong things? The ship angled itself and then accelerated into hyperspace and a new future.

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When Rekken and the others had first boarded _The Scarlet Eagle _the first thing they'd asked was where the dormitory was. The men's dormitory wasn't very well kept. Clothes and pictures of nude twileks littered the floor. The team picked the cleanest looking beds and promptly fell asleep. Not the Sergeant, however. Pictures of the carnage flashed through his memory. He had never seen anything like that since the friendly fire incident. He couldn't begin to imagine the raw _power _it must have taken to wipe an entire Republic army out single-handedly. Not only a tragedy, but yet another crushing blow on the feeble Republic. The soldier turned on his side. It was a damn good thing that the Jedi general Revan was in charge of the Republic forces. Without him, he doubted the survival of the Republic. He gazed at the wall some more and tried to clear his mind.

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Unknown to Rekken, he wasn't the only one not able to sleep. Skye also lay awake in the women's dorm. After a while, she slipped away from her bunk. Desperately trying to focus her thoughts, she wandered the ship as a restless ghost. She wound up in the security room and sat, staring at the consoles. Her fatigue was so great, the pictures displayed on the screens blurred, and she closed her eyes.

Moments later, footsteps approached. Skye opened her eyes to see Mical's face looking at her.

"Hello, couldn't sleep much myself either. Mind if I sit?" he asked politely.

"Oh, of course not," she replied, closing her eyes once again.

"Well, during our search of the Republic base, I retrieved this, and I believe it belongs to you."

Skye cracked opened an eye. Mical was holding out a periwinkle-bound book with gold –stamped characters reading _Skye Karas_.

"Yeah? I bet that was hard to figure out," she snapped, snatching her diary from his hands.

Mical looked as if she had hit him with a Bothan Stunner. "Is there some problem? I was only trying to _help_," he said, the slight increase in his voice volume indicating that he was irritated.

"Right. I'm supposed to believe that you found my diary, waited all of this time to give it to me, and didn't read it?" She glared suspiciously.

Mical's features instantly softened. "That's what you thought? Skye, I wouldn't do that."

Skye spun in her chair, casually leafing through the pages. Cocking an eyebrow, she remarked, "And I'm a Hutt in disguise planning to overthrow the Republic."

Mical met her stare without flinching. Steadily gazing into her eyes, he softly replied, "Skye, I'm sorry if that's what you thought, but I would _never_ violate your privacy."

"So you're saying you're not human?" Skye teased, leaning back into the cushioned recesses of her chair while allowing a grin to escape. Somehow, she knew he was telling the truth. Call it a gut instinct, or…something, but she was sure of herself.

"What?" asked Mical, clearly lost. Seeing her grin, he sighed exasperatedly, a half-smile appearing on his face despite his best efforts to suppress it. "Honestly, Skye, you are going to drive me mad someday. I've only known you for a day, and you are already testing my patience."

"Oh please," Skye scoffed. "Like anyone could actually pass up an opportunity to read a diary. I don't think you _are_ human. Or Twi'lek. Or Zabrak. Or even a Wookiee. I'd have read _yours_."

It was Mical's turn to raise his eyebrows. "I see. So I shall have to be careful to keep all important files away from you in the future. Obviously you cannot be trusted with such information as what I ate for breakfast, or what color shoes I like best, or…"

Laughing, Skye got up to hit him playfully on the chest, but tripped over a loose power cord – landing right in his arms.

Obviously startled, Mical stared at her, eyes wide. His arms had instinctively moved around her, to prevent her fall, and now she was perched in his lap, her arms around his neck, looking as stunned as he felt. He opened his mouth, but no words came.

Skye stared into his innocent blue eyes. As she watched him try to say something, _anything_, she wanted nothing more than to…And then all of the old fear came flooding back. Panic rising, she pushed away from him, her frantic, frenzied thoughts driving her to flee, to run anywhere, anywhere but here.

"Skye?" asked Mical, his voice betraying the concern he felt. He reached out to her, worriedly asking, "Are you alright?"

Skye backed away from him. "No," she moaned, her eyes brimming with tears. "Please, no," she whispered, giving him a fearful look that tore into his heart. She turned and ran from the room, leaving behind a very confused and immensely worried Mical.

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Two days later,_ The Scarlet Eagle _reached the edge of the Dantooine system. Everyone aboard was awake, though most were sitting in the crew's quarters. Rekken, Skye, and Atton occupied the cockpit.

They were startled by the scene presented to them. Republic war ships flew every which way in vain attempts to organize themselves. The _Eagle _flew through the mess unquestioned.

"What the hell is going on?" Rekken asked to no one in particular. "There're enough ships here to wipe out an entire system…"

Atton's ship cleared the Republic fleet and headed towards the surface. The ground was just as chaotic as space. Soldiers ran back and forth, screaming orders to one another. Republic engineers set up plasteel barricades around the Jedi Enclave. The crew of the _Eagle _left the ship and began their walk to the Jedi council room, trying their best to detach themselves from the commotion.

"You! Uh…" an officer looked at the insignia on Voros' uniform, "Sergeant. Take these energy cells to that gun over there."

"Sir, you are mistaken. I'm with these people, and we need to see the Jedi council. What exactly is going on?" Rekken replied.

"If you're seeing the council, ask them. I'm too damn busy right now." The officer strutted away, energy cells in hand.

The group continued through the chaos, doing their best to avoid the running soldiers. When they reached the council room, two Republic soldiers stood guard.

"Name, rank, and business." One of the guards said without turning too look on the soldier.

"Platoon Sergeant Rekken Voros, 181st Republic Marine division. I'm here to discuss a Sith threat to the council."

"181st… Weren't you guys wiped out on Eres III? Oh never mind. Trust me, Sergeant. The council already knows of Revan."

"Revan? The general? No I'm talking about something completely different."

The soldier finally met his eyes and looked at him quizzically. "Entrance granted. Step too close to the Jedi, and you will be killed before you can say Sith assassin."

Questions whirred inside the heads of the group, but they proceeded to speak with the Jedi they recognized as Master Vandar.

Vandar and another Jedi council member, a twilek, were the only two Jedi in the room. Eight soldiers encircled it, rifles at the ready.

"Ah, Mical, it has been a long time." The small alien peered up at the blonde haired man.

"So long ago…" he mumbled.

"Master Jedi, I have come here to warn you of a supposed Sith threat." Rekken stated.

Master Vandar shifted his gaze from Mical and onto the marine. "A Sith threat, you say? I can feel the scars upon you. This is a very powerful evil, even more so than Revan."

The group seemed puzzled at the mention of Revan.

"Revan?" prodded Vohn.

"You have not heard?" the twilek piped up. "Yesterday, one of the Jedi who has left the order walked in on Revan meditating next to a Sith holocron. Realizing that Revan has fallen to the dark side, the Jedi came fleeing back to the Jedi order. We sent a few Jedi diplomats to talk with him, but as soon as they revealed who they were, Revan fired on them, killing them. Revan has taken all the forces under his command and left the Republic - even the Jedi who had left us fell with him. They call themselves the Sith and now are hostile to us. Obviously he had plans before to crush the Republic after the Mandalorian wars. Now that he has been exposed, the Republic now is fighting on two fronts, one against the Mandalorians and one against Revan. The Mandalorians have not allied with the Sith, which is good, but they will just fight both armies. The reason you are seeing these defenses being made is because the Republic will need the Jedi's aid in the current war. Revan's first possible move will be to eliminate the Jedi enclave."

Rekken listened silently, and after the twilek finished, he told the two masters of the Sith they had met, and his suspicions of the extent of its powers.

"Another obstacle the Republic will have to topple. This is not good news at all. If this Sith allies with Revan and Malak, we may not prevail." Vandar said quietly.

"Rekken Voros, it would be a great help to the Jedi if you and your companions could stay here and help against the possible Sith attack. We will need all we can get." The Twilek Jedi said.

"It's a can-do, Master Jedi. Myself and these two are Republic Marines. Those four are Medics and this guy," he pointed at Atton, "could probably help the ground soldiers. He seems to know how to fire a weapon."

"Thank you, Sergeant. Report to Major Andis of the 150th Marine division. I'm sure he'll have a spot for you."

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Rekken looked warily at the squad displayed before him. Andis had found a spot for him, leading a fairly large squad. Everyone was with him, Skye and the other medics were going to be working in the field today.

"How many of you have seen action?" he asked the soldiers.

They looked at him strangely and one scratched his neck.

Rekken sighed and began to walk away when one of them spoke. "Uh, sir. There's one more. She's a sniper and I think she's seen battle before."

"Good, a non-green sniper, should come in handy. As for you men, welcome to hell. Since this is your first action, it's gonna be your worse. You've gotta learn how to fight your instincts and keep your head. Once you learn how to do that, the enemy will be easy. Now excuse me while I go talk to this sniper." Rekken left the room and walked towards the barracks.

A lone sniper was sitting on a bed, cleaning her rifle and mounting a scope. Her hands moved with quick precision. Her red-blonde hair was braided and it ran down her back. The sniper's eyes were sharp, the sign of veterancy. Obviously, this was the sniper his squad was talking about.

"Sergeant Rekken Voros, I believe you're in my squad," greeted the soldier.

"Tena Marks," she replied, not removing her eyes from her task.

"You seem, familiar, Tena. Though I don't recall where from."

She finally stopped what she was doing and stared at the Sergeant.

"When you were a private attached to the 60th, I was there when the bombing wiped out your platoon. Your Lieutenant and I were coordinating to hold the square. I was away from the building you were in though, that is why I survived. Funny, I heard the whole platoon was dead, but here you are alive. It is nice to see you again Voros."

Rekken's eyes glazed from the memories of the death of his platoon. "It is nice to see you too, Marks."

With that, the Sergeant left the room.

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Captain Yethka stood at the bridge of his Republic destroyer. If the Sith were going to attack, it would be in the next few hours. He had already been waiting for a few hours, and the organization of the fleet had fatigued him and his crew. He looked out of the view port and onto the line of Republic ships, ready to do battle with anything that came remotely close to the system.

He sighed and rubbed his burning eyes. Waiting, maybe the fleet was just wasting its time. He checked his uniform for the one hundredth time, it was clean and completely wrinkle free. Damn, he needed something to occupy his mind. The officer decided to observe the stars.

Minutes passed until an audible alarm sounded through the bridge.

"Incoming! Lots of Sith Warships on approach! Fifty, scratch that, seventy war ships. One hundred twenty including the landing ships. Eight hundred including their already deployed fighters!"

"Damn! Get all men on their turrets! Lieutenant, turn this ship on its side! All heavy cannons, target the lead ship and fire!"

Lines of massive beams launched themselves from his cannons and detonated on the front of the Sith ship. It rolled to port, its stabilizers obviously hit.

"Good shooting!"

His fellow destroyers fired salvos at the Sith fleet. Only a few kills resulted from the fire, though. The ships loomed closer and closer until they got into their range, turned and began to fire.

The admiral's voice cracked over the com. "All units! Move forward and engage at will! Watch for friendly fire!"

The line of Republic ships charged through the oncoming fire. Several ships were hit and spun out of control.

The landing ships began their descent onto the planet. A few were nailed from laser fire, but only a few.

_Those ground troops are up for one hell of a fight _thought the Captain. He cleared his mind and returned it to the battle at hand.


	4. Chapter 4 Incursion on Dantooine

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

**Pimp3dout335: **Hello everyone, guess what? Yay battle! Hope you all enjoy this new chapter and I'm going to turn the mic over to Morgianne... just so you know she's alive.

**Morgianne: **Well, since it's physically and psychologically impossible for **pimp3dout335** to write anything that's light-sided...I'm here. ) I **love** reviews, so I want to thank Jord for reviewing! May the Force be with you, and remember...Vandar is **_THE _**cheese.

Thanks you for reading,

The Authors

**Chapter 4- Incursion on Dantooine**

When the Sith first entered the system, the com became hysterical. Screams of the dying populated its waves.

"All ground units, this is the Admiral. You've got about forty-five landing ships on approach. Give 'em hell down there."

"Roger that, Admiral," one of the commanding officers replied.

"All ground forces, power up the repeating blasters. Missile units, remember your targets are _vehicles, _not infantry. We cannot allow them to breach our lines. The Jedi are counting on us, soldiers. Do not let them down."

Robert stood next to the other three medics. "Ok, it's about time I've imparted my wisdom on you young 'uns." He paused, looking valiant. "Don't get shot, it doesn't feel good." Squaring his chest imperiously, he strolled away.

Rekken checked his squad's position for the last time as the Sith landing ships broke through the atmosphere, flying at full speed to the ground. The massive anti-aircraft guns surrounding the Jedi enclave began to pinpoint the oncoming ships and bombarded them with laser fire.

Two ships shuddered as the turrets tore away their plating, and they caught on fire and smashed into the ground at supersonic speed. The explosions lit up the Dantooine evening sky.

"Tena, are you in position behind us?" Rekken asked into the com, watching as the ships descended like angry bees onto the planet.

"Roger that," she replied coldly.

The landing ships weren't completely defenseless from the anti-aircraft weapons, however. Their own guns returned fire at the Jedi structure. Rekken and his squad ducked as a few lasers flew past their cover, obliterating the turret behind them.

"Gah!" the gunner screamed.

"Turret five has been hit," someone reported.

"Turret seven is gone."

"Turret three just took a hit."

Rekken listened as more bad news flooded the com. Explosions dotted the landscape everywhere he turned. A repeating turret and its operator vaporized as more fire from the landing ships raked the Republic's lines.

The Sergeant turned to watch as the light of fire danced across the faces of his comrades and friends. Atton was leaning against the plasteel plate, swearing under his breath about how he always got involved with the wrong crowds. Rekken grinned as he spotted Robert, looking defiantly at the Sith invasion. They were ready, he was sure of it.

The landing ships began to encircle the enclave, one even attempted to fly right over it, but was hit and crashed into the structure.

After the ships finally landed, an eerie silence settled over the battlefield. The anti-aircraft guns could no longer fire on the landing ships and vice versa. Sounds of troops and tanks disembarking their transports broke the moment of peace.

"Ok, the first thing the Sith are most likely going to do is launch artillery strikes to soften up our lines. Keep your head and it will be fine," Rekken reassured the soldiers behind him.

A line of tanks appeared at the horizon surrounding the enclave. Then Rekken's prophesy became true as lasers started to lob themselves at the Republic's soldiers.

"Down, NOW!" someone screamed over the comlink as the first of the energy blobs hit the hastily built defensive structures. Four soldiers were thrown back from the blast.

"Medic!" came a desperate cry.

Skye and Mical dodged their way to the injured men through a rainstorm of energy. They worked together to carry the sole survivor away from the wreckage. As they treated his wounds, others ran for cover.

The bombardment continued for only a few minutes, but for those under the fire it felt like an eternity.

"Now, they attack," commented Voros.

Once again, Rekken was right on. The hovering tanks began their slow advance towards the defensive lines of the Republic. Their attack was very generic, tanks in the front with the troops behind them using the behemoths for cover. Tena and the other snipers garrisoned in the enclave began their deadly efficiency as soon as the first troop made himself within range.

"Missile units, on my mark," came the General's voice.

The tanks loomed closer and closer, the turret and sniper fire from the Republic increasing.

"Mark!" yelled the general through the com.

Trails of white smoke created a wall of death as they flew straight and true into the advancing line. Tanks were ripped apart from the sheer volume of rockets, pieces of their heavy metal armor flying every which way.

"Open fire!" Rekken screamed into the comlink. The Republic soldiers got their long-awaited crack at the enemy infantry. Sheets of laser fire tore into the advancing Sith in their silver-white armor.

The Sith fell en-mass as the unrelenting stream of lasers killed more and more of them. Not wanting to waste more men, the Sith lines fell back, leaving the smoking carcasses of former tanks.

The Republic lines broke out into a chorus of cheers. Rekken scowled at the first sound of the jubilation. _These guys ARE really green. The battle hasn't even started yet, _he thought.

"Let's take the fight to 'em boys! Charge!" came an order over the comlink.

Thirty marines on the west side of the enclave broke from their cover and charged headlong into the retreating Sith.

"Who the hell ordered that attack?" Rekken snarled over the com on the main frequency, meaning anyone could hear it.

"Pull back! Pull back now! Get out of there!" screamed the general.

For the marines, it was too late. Realizing their mistake, they attempted to run back to their cover. The Sith tanks turned around, firing their anti-infantry guns and their main cannons at the running marines. Soldiers fell in groups of two, three, or four. Not one of the marines ever made it back, the last one tried to crawl back, but the attempt was futile.

"Replacement units, take position on the west side of the enclave."

Soldiers came pouring from the Jedi structure, desperately trying to close the gap created by the mistake. The Sith forces took the initiative and readied a second charge against the weakened lines.

"Missile units, fire at will this time around. This is going to be a long day, boys," the commander said grimly over the com.

The Sith tanks pummeled the Republic lines once again. Many tanks breached the lines, but were promptly blown into oblivion. Sith infantry engaged the Republic soldiers throughout the man-made carnage. The Sergeant and his squad hit the enemy with everything they had, firing never ceasing. Two soldiers dropped from the Sith onslaught, and many more were to follow.

The commander was right.

It had been three hours from the initial Sith assault, and the battle was going anything but well. The fighting upstairs was going just as badly. Just as things seemed to be under control, another wave of Sith warships came out of hyperspace and into the battle. More troops and tanks reinforced the flaunting numbers that were already deployed. Rekken's squad had been holding their area well, but they had taken heavy casualties. Waves of Sith soldiers kept coming, but they were killed one after another. By now, they were literally crawling over walls of their own dead.

The Sergeant doubted the survival of the Republic forces deployed here if the attacks kept coming. He had heard other squads down to two or three men, fighting like mad to hold their ground. It was madness, an unending stream of soldiers pouring onto their lines.

A few minutes later, the stream of Sith abruptly stopped.

"I'm going to take a look. Tena, keep me covered."

As Rekken made his way through the gory mess, Atton poked his head from behind the cover he had been using. _Damn, maybe it's over. _The thought seemed very appealing after hiding behind a burning tank for hours. Every muscle in his body ached from the constant strain. When one of the soldiers called him a coward for using too much cover, he answered with his classic phrase. 'Just a healthy dose of self-interest.'

Atton heard footsteps coming closer and saw Rekken making his way back. "Looks like they're pulling back. Prepare yourselves for another artillery strike."

"Again?" Private Menski asked, looking up at the Sergeant.

"Sixth time today," mumbled an irritated Vohn.

"Yes, again. Every time an assault fails, they're going to try to soften us up more," Voros said as he crouched behind a durasteel plate. He caught a glimpse of a blood-covered Skye as she ran around, aiding the wounded.

The distinct sound of artillery firing once again huffed in the distance. Explosions once again lit up the battlefield. Rekken clenched his teeth as he felt himself being rattled by the energy blobs. One landed very close to the Sergeant, hitting a nearby soldier. He was tossed away like a doll, completely limp. The soldier's friend looked upon him in shock as fireballs exploded up around him.

"Nothing you can do for him now! Come on! Get over here!" Mical yelled at the reeling soldier.

Realizing the soldier wasn't going to move, Mical sprinted for him, grabbing his arm and pulling him to safety.

"Are you alright?" he asked the still-stunned marine. The soldier nodded, visibly shaken.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your friend, but you've got to shake it off and win this battle, soldier." Mical kept pleading for the soldier to come to his senses, and he eventually did.

Mical heard a click as Rekken opened a private com channel to him.

"Thanks for getting that soldier back on his feet, Mical. You're doing a good job out here."

"It was my pleasure, Sergeant."

The artillery stopped again, and the shouts of the charging Sith infantry again became evident in the ears of the Republic soldiers. Rekken and the surviving squad members prepared themselves for the constant warfare that they had been fighting.

As the first of the Sith came into their field of fire, the soldiers gave it everything they had. Their constant fire once again annihilated the Sith troopers storming their lines. A frantic voice came over the com. "This is the south defense; they've broken through our lines! We have to fall back into the enclave! I repeat, everybody fall back into the enclave!"

Rekken heard the order and his face turned grim.

"You heard him, get inside the enclave! Vohn, suppression fire!" Vohn turned his gun on the advancing Sith and laid down the lasers. He followed with his back turned, spraying.

When the battered squad came to the entrance, Rekken spotted Robert with his rifle firing at the oncoming Sith. "Robert get _inside _the enclave," he sighed.

"No! I'm gonna kill all these Sith bastards by myself!" he growled. Voros sighed and grappled the protesting old man, pulling him inside the enclave. The soldiers locked the doors behind him for two reasons. One: Keep the Sith out. Two: Keep Robert in.

"I could've taken them," Robert sputtered.

"Ok, Robby, whatever," Jada said as she passed the flaming mad Chief Medic.

Atton and Rekken ran to nearby windows and used them for cover as they shot more barrages at the Sith invasion.

"Damn it!" screamed a startled Atton as a stray laser made it through the window and hit his shoulder.

"Medic!" called Voros, gun still trained on the ever-closer Sith. Sith tanks and soldiers poured returning fire onto the enclave, blowing holes in the structure. The door that had kept the main entrance closed was hit from a tank shot, blowing it into shattered fragments.

"Door! Dammit, the door's gone! They've breached the damn door!" Rekken reported to the surviving Republic soldiers.

Several Jedi came sprinting down the hallway, lightsabers at the ready. Sith soldiers came pouring into the structure, but the Jedi reinforcements began hacking them down. Rekken looked on as more Sith came running across the courtyard. They weren't going to make it, he finally realized. For once in his life, he was in a battle in which he couldn't win. This was it. He was going to die like a dog, stuck in a Jedi enclave.

One brave Sith jumped through the window the Sergeant was at. Atton watched as Voros grabbed the Sith by the throat and started bashing his head against the wall.

"Stop! I surrender! Stop please!" the startled Sith managed to choke out.

With flames in his eyes, the Sergeant never stopped, bashing the Sith again and again. Finally, the helmet protecting his head broke, a shard entering the unlucky soldier's face. His struggling stopped and Rekken finally calmed down.

"You didn't have to do that! The bastard surrendered!" Atton yelled.

"Shut up, dammit! He didn't deserve to live."

Atton looked out of the window, the sheer numbers the Sith had made them look like ants swarming on their prey. The scoundrel was just about to start firing again when he heard something coming through the atmosphere.

"More landing ships?" a clearly shaken marine asked over the com.

Rekken saw a fireball coming straight down onto the Sith lines. Rekken recognized it as a Sith capital ship, shot down from the battle above. It landed on the Jedi enclave's courtyard, crushing many of the Sith beneath its massive weight, and its ensuing explosion blotted out the evening sky.

Skye moved unfeelingly throughout the piles of the wounded and the dead. It wasn't that she didn't care; she simply knew that the soldiers' best chances lay in her thinking clearly and staying focused. Besides, she'd seen scenes like this too many times, and familiarity breeds desensitization.

Rekken was one of the lucky ones. He'd suffered a concussion and was lying unconscious, but he'd live. Skye had thanked whatever unknown force had saved her friend and kept him unharmed.

Skye sighed as she finished dressing a particularly nasty wound on yet another soldier. This one would probably lose his leg. The soldier babbled incoherently, staring about wild-eyed without true comprehension. Skye took a moment to hold his hand. No matter how hard she tried to remain detached, people's suffering always got to her eventually.

A shadow fell over her, and she turned her gaze to the source. Mical was hovering over her, somewhat hesitantly. Skye inwardly winced. They hadn't spoken since the incident in the security room a few days ago. She was fairly sure that he had been trying to, but not wanting to face her behavior, she had avoided him.

"Well?" she asked shortly.

"I was wondering as to the condition of his leg," Mical replied softly, gesturing at the still babbling soldier. "I looked in on him briefly earlier, but it was too soon to tell if we would be able to save it."

Skye grimaced. "I don't think there's anything we can do, but you're welcome to take another look."

Mical knelt beside the wounded man and carefully moved the dressing on the man's leg. As he assessed the wound, his shoulders slumped, and he sighed imperceptibly.

"We're going to have to operate now to save him. He's developed gangrene," Mical said sadly, pointing out the vicious infection.

Skye bit back a particularly colorful oath. "No point in wasting time then," she said grimly, rolling back her sleeves and opening a bottle of strong antiseptic liquid.

Jada sighed as some Chief Medic chewed her out over the comlink, telling her to take care of certain patients and what not. She really missed Robert as the chief medic. Too bad this guy wouldn't relinquish his spot for an old man.

"Ok, now that you're done with that soldier, go patch up some guy named Atton Rand. He's been complaining nonstop and we can't spare any goodmedics. Should be on the east side of the building. Somehow got his own private room. Sounds like militia."

Jada's eyes narrowed at the name. She even considered protesting, but decided against it since the last thing she needed was to hear more of this egotistical brute's lectures.

_Atton Rand…That jerk deserves to suffer. I'm not surprised that he's annoying everyone. He never stops complaining, does he? And I'm supposed to heal him after the way he treated me? Yeah right!_

A delightfully evil grin became to form on Jada's face as she realized just how painful she could make the healing process. _Oh, Atton, you are going to pay._ Her mood vigorously uplifted, she nearly skipped to Atton's room.

Jada opened the door, but stopped short at the sight of Atton. Reeling, she stared at the bloody mass that was his shoulder. All thoughts of revenge vanished, replaced by a desire to help the man, that if she was going to be honest with herself, she still cared about.

"Atton," she said weakly.

Atton glanced up. "Hey gorgeous! Didn't know I'd get an angel to treat me." He tried to flash a cocky grin, but pain won out.

Jada hurried over to him, delicately probing the wound with skilled fingers. "Well, it's nothing serious, but I'm sure it hurts a lot," she sympathized, more relieved than she cared to admit. "I'm still going to have to clean it though."

Atton paled. "I'm…fine…" he grunted. "Don't bother with all of that stinging stuff."

"Don't be a baby," snapped Jada, applying the medicine to his wound.

"OW! Dammit, woman! What'd you do that for? I said not to!"

Jada glared back and icily replied, "If that had become infected, you could have lost your arm. Skye and Mical just finished amputating someone's leg. Is that what you would have wanted?"

Atton shut his mouth, his protests dying. Idly fingering a worn spot on the lucky black jacket he was never without, he muttered, "Sorry."

"Still," he continued, grinning and meeting her gaze, "I don't think you're quite finished. Isn't there something you're forgetting?"

Jada didn't trust the gleam illuminating the darkness of his eyes. "_I'm_ the medic. I think I know when I've finished," she began, annoyed.

The thought was forever left incomplete as Atton leaned forward and roughly pulled her into a lustful, passionate kiss. Jada protested at first, but as Atton pulled her closer, she gave in to her feelings and fervently kissed him back. She'd never felt anything like this before; none of the well-to-do nobility that her parents had approved of had ever made her so alive with desire.

As he slowly pulled back, Atton whispered, "I knew it."

"What?" breathed Jada softly, her eyes half-closed as she savored the memory of the kiss.

"I knew that playing up the hurt act would get you to admit you're madly in love with me. I didn't think it'd be _quite_ that easy though," he smirked, leaning back in an oh-so-casual position. "And now I can check off sexual fantasy #114 – making out with a beautiful nurse."

Fury pumping through every blood vessel, Jada jumped to her feet, the thud dulled by the furious buzz in her ears. "First off, it's _medic_, not nurse. Don't you _dare_ discredit all of the training I went through! Second, how dare you…you..!" Anger paralyzed her tongue, leaving her unable to voice the livid thoughts firing through her brain.

As he watched her increasing frustration, Atton shook his head. "What? I said you were beautiful. What else do you want?"

Summoning control over her body, Jada proceeded to tell Atton exactly what she wanted. She smacked him – HARD – right on his still healing shoulder. Atton gasped, not only from the pain, but from the shock as well, and gaped after her as she flipped back her raven-dark hair and briskly strode to the door.

"What'd I do to deserve that?" he asked dazedly.

Jada turned to stare at him. "If you don't know, then I feel sorry for you, Atton Rand," she replied, disgust dripping off of every syllable.

Atton watched her go, rubbing his shoulder in a futile attempt to make the pain subside. What had made her so upset? Deciding that the female mind was too dangerous a territory to venture into, Atton sighed.

"Women," he muttered.

Master Vandar opened his eyes, allowing the light to slowly flood his senses and waken him from his dormant meditation. Blinking, he rose and made his way to the Council chamber. Having withstood the perils of battle, it was still able to serve its fundamental purpose.

Vandar paused, regarding the flurry of activity that had dominated the Enclave since the Sith invasion. The sheer numbers of the dead and the wounded evoked feelings of compassion in the slight creature, but instead he applied himself to the task at hand. One of the medics, a young woman, was incredibly Force-sensitive, and yet completely oblivious to her gift. One of the other masters had discovered the woman's nature quite by accident when he had observed her unknowingly draw on the Force to bring a soldier away from imminent death.

Vandar continued to reflect on Skye Karas as he entered the Council chamber. With training, she would make a wonderful addition to the Jedi Order. Still, the Council had voted not to offer her a position as a student at the Academy. There was another way – a way that could achieve so much more. By asking the group Skye was a part of to complete missions for the Order, she would gain valuable field experience, and the Sith would be weakened. Vandar had great faith in the abilities of those she traveled with, particularly Sgt. Voros, and had no doubt that they would be open to taking on missions to defeat the Sith. And by sending the Padawan Bastila Shan to tutor Skye and help with the missions, Bastila would be able to prove her worthiness of accepting the title of Jedi Knight.

There was another reason as well. Vandar had observed that Mical Kelson seemed quite fond of Skye. Perhaps making her a Jedi would tempt him back to the Jedi Order. The loss of such a talented Consular had been quite a blow to the Order, and Mical probably could have become a Jedi Master in a few years.

Vandar raised his eyes, a small smile gracing his features. _The light approaches. There is a chance we may yet destroy the inevitable darkness._

"Master Vandar? They're here," came a self-assured, briskly accented woman's voice as she strode into the chamber, followed by Skye, Mical, Sgt. Voros, Pvt. Vohn, Pvt. Menski, a very disgruntled Jada, an even more disgruntled Atton, and Robert Forsen.

"Ah, Bastila Shan. You are willing to do what the Council asks of you?"

"Of course, Master. I am always ready to serve the Council," the confident brunette replied.

"Good," Vandar acknowledged, with a slight nod in her direction. Turning his attention to the others, he paused before beginning. "A favor, the Jedi Council wishes to ask of you. Capable, all of you are, and war you have seen. What we would ask of you is to traverse the galaxy. Destroy the Sith allied under Darth Revan. Weaken them so that a final assault can end this threat for all time."

The group exchanged glances. As Vandar had predicted, they did not seem opposed to such a mission. Clearing his throat, Vandar continued, "To aid you in your missions, the Jedi Council will send the Padawan Bastila Shan. Together, we must unite if the Sith are to be defeated."

Rekken glanced at his companions. The grim determination etched on their faces convinced him. "I think I speak for all of us when I say that we will take your mission for the good of the galaxy - and for the Republic." The others nodded their assent.

Vandar smiled. "The Council thanks you. May the Force be with you."


	5. Chapter 5 The Unholy Alliance

**Author's Notes**

**Morgianne - This is an intermission chapter of sorts, where several character relations are established for when the actual missions begin (next chapter). Not every character interacts with everyone, but the most important relationships _are _addressed. Happy reading! (And I still love reviews.)**

**Pimp3dout335 - Ah, yes. Character development, bores you too? Bwahahaha, do not fear, evil-doers, there is evil strewn along this chapter straight from my little black heart. Enjoy!**

Chapter 5- The Unholy Alliance

_He has failed me. Admiral Gern has utterly failed me. His performance during the attempted destruction of the Jedi Order was unacceptable. The men deployed in that battle severely outnumbered the Republic's, but his brutish tactics were the death of many of them. I rather enjoyed his punishment. I had used a vibroblade to stab him over and over again. If he resisted, my appointed Dark Jedi would suck the life slowly from his family. It was amusing to watch him break down in grief as his family screamed in pain. He eventually decided to let his family die for the torment to stop. I made him watch the consequences of his decision. After Gern's family had perished, I imprisoned him forever in the bottom of my ship. He will never be at peace._

_I had asked Admiral Gern to lead the attack because I had other tasks to attend to. A few days ago, I felt a darkness, greater than I have ever experienced before, moving through the galaxy. This darkness snuffs the light from every place it travels to. Another Sith perhaps? I will find this darkness - it could be a powerful ally. If it refuses, I will destroy it._

A tap on Revan's shoulder brought him back from his meditation.

"My lord, we have arrived at the destination you have requested. We are now orbiting Eres III, but there is something I must bring to your attention."

"What would that be Lieutenant?" Revan's pale yellow eyes fixed themselves on the nervous bridge officer.

"The planet has been set ablaze. We do not know how it has happened, however."

"Interesting. I want you to track and capture all leaving ships. Tell the boarding parties to be prepared for anything."

xxxxxxxxx

Rekken grimaced as he stepped over yet another body. From the costly battle, Dantooine's once beautiful plains had been turned into a living hell. After the meeting with the Jedi council, he and his party had decided to get back to _The Scarlet Eagle_, and get some well deserved R&R.

Vohn had been extremely affected by the horrors of war. It was his and Menski's real first action. They may have been in a few skirmishes here and there, but this was a whole new story. Vohn's eyes had dulled since the battle, and his expression never changed. He would get over it eventually, but for now, he had to take it easy.

Menski one the other hand acted like he always did - nervous as hell. He whimpered at any of the _really _gruesome bodies. His eyes darted to every shadow that moved, and it was really getting the Sergeant pissed. Menski had never come through on anything. During the battle, he spent fifty percent of the time screaming he didn't want to die. His cowardice probably cost some of the other soldiers' lives.

Rekken recognized the looming hulk of the _Eagle _as the group got closer to the hangar. The ship seemed relatively unharmed, so the crew got on and blasted away from the surface of Dantooine.

xxxxxxxxxx

Revan watched from a security console as the only ship escaping from the planet was seized. It was a smaller vessel, perhaps a smuggler's ship.

As soon as the ship entered Revan's flagship, tensions ran through the Force. Waves of evil radiated through the halls of the Sith warship.

"Lieutenant, give me a com channel to this ship." Revan's eyes never left the console as he spoke these words.

"Yes, my lord." The Lieutenant quickly followed his orders.

"Greetings, unknown. I am Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith, and I recommend that you leave your vessel immediately. If you refuse to, I will be forced to destroy it - with you inside."

Revan awaited movement from the vessel, but none came at first. Slowly, the hatch opened and a figure emerged, completely robed in black.

"Unknown, lower your hood."

The 'Unknown' obeyed, lowering the dark hood that shadowed out his face. The Sith troopers all took a step back from the horrible sight.

'Unknown's' flesh was decaying and blood flowed endlessly from his wounds. The dark side had obviously been the key factor in this man's mutation.

"Who are you?"

For the first time, 'Unknown' spoke, "I am Darth Vilad," his voice dripping from his lust of blood.

Revan, sensing Vilad's power, asked, "Vilad, where does your power originate from?"

"I feed from the deceased Sith Lords. I have their every memory, every technique, and _all_ of their power."

xxxxxxxxxxx

Sergeant Voros and Private Vohn made their way back towards the storage room located in the back of the ship. Hunger gnawed at their insides, an aftereffect of the battle they had survived.

Rekken paused in front of a large metal door with the words **STORAGE **printed on it. "Can't really tell, Vohn. Think this is the place?"

For the first time since he had witnessed the destruction of war, Vohn's features cracked a smile. "I do believe so, Sarge."

Rekken grinned and entered the room. Shelves of food and repair tools lined the walls. Voros and his comrade began picking through the supplies.

"Probably don't want that, has the same expiration date as my mother's birthday," mumbled the Sergeant.

Vohn broke down into full-fledged laughter. "Thanks Sarge. It kinda helps after seeing that hell-hole."

Voros kept picking through the food and said, "Vohn, I noticed that it hit you pretty hard. I'm not criticizing you - it hits us all hard. One thing I'm glad you did, you never broke down. You didn't let the effects get to you until the battle was over. You did a damn fine job out there. With this new mission the Jedi gave us, we're going to see many battles. Maybe worse than the last one, but you'll find out that it gets easier. Every time you enter combat, you'll become stronger. Then soon, you're gonna end up like me," grinned the self-confident Sergeant.

"Well, that's cool. Hey Sarge, I found something edible," Francis picked up a small package of food.

"Hell, you'd probably be a good bounty hunter if you can find edible stuff here."

Both soldiers chuckled and just sat down to eat it when a woman entered the claustrophobic room.

"Sergeant? I was searching the ship for you," came a cool and collected voice.

"Tena? What the _hell _are you doing here? I thought you were still with the Republic army."

Shaking her head slightly to settle the wisps of strawberry highlighted gold that had escaped her braid, the sniper replied, "I left when I heard of your mission. I came along to offer my assistance."

"Well, we don't have much of a choice anymore since we're in space. Welcome aboard. I better go introduce you to everyone. _After _I'm done eating."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Pressing her lips together in a hard, firm line, Bastila felt the strain in her knuckles increase along with her desire to shake the woman in front of her. Not only was Skye Karas proving to be most disappointing after the predictions about her talent, (she _was_ very attuned to the Force, yet sadly unable to manipulate and use it, except, seemingly, in times of sheer desperation), but she kept asking the most _irritating_ questions as well.

"Bastila, why in space would anyone _want_ to make a datapad float a few inches off the ground?" Skye asked as the datapad that she had been precariously levitating for about two seconds crashed to the floor of the cargo hold with a small _ping_! "Damn!" she muttered.

Bastila rolled her eyes upward, summoning her inner calm. "In battle, one may apply this principle, giving one an edge against one's enemies."

Skye gave her a level look. "Yeah? Well, I find it hard to believe that a datapad is going to do much, but you're the Master."

"That is _not_ what I was referring to," Bastila began rather testily. "I meant_ larger_ objects…" She stopped as Skye smirked. So she had known exactly what Bastila meant. _There is no emotion, there is only peace._

Plastering a smile on her own face, Bastila decided to put the – for lack of a better word – _student_ in place. "Of course, with your apparent lack of Force-wielding talent, you might actually need a datapad to defeat your enemies. And in all seriousness, you should never discredit whatever tools you may have at your disposal. In battle, nothing is ever completely useless."

"Well, why can't I have a lightsaber then?" Skye asked, propping herself up on her elbows, regarding Bastila more seriously than she had through the entire lesson. "You admitted you thought I would be good at it. And surely it would be more useful than _this_," she continued, gesturing at the datapad.

Bastila looked at her pupil thoughtfully. There was a spark of real interest in her eyes, a flame that had been absent till now. And she was right - she _would_ be good at it. Earlier, Bastila had taken her through some of the exercises performed by Guardians, and Skye had, well, _excelled_. She had moved with the fluid grace of a dancer and had quickly learned to wield the practice blade with the strength of a warrior. It was obvious that the girl had previously learned how to move precisely, without wasting energy. When Bastila had asked her where she had learned such skills, however, the normally loquacious Skye had withdrawn into reticence.

_She probably will have to be a Guardian. I don't think her Force abilities are even up to that of a Sentinel, much less a Consular. Besides, in combat her Force-Sensitivity would still give her a higher level of awareness. It would still alert her to her opponent's moves. And she's definitely more interested in lightsaber training than anything else. However, she is not ready. She is impatient, stubborn, and foolish. Perhaps the promise of a lightsaber will correct her attitude._

"You are not ready, Skye," Bastila said calmly, holding up a hand to stop the protests she sensed were coming. As Skye angrily shut her mouth, Bastila continued. "Your attitude is not worthy of a Jedi, and until you reform, you will not create or use a lightsaber, nor will you learn the higher mysteries of the Force."

"You think _I'm_ the one with the attitude?" Skye asked hotly. "I never asked to be a Jedi! You simply waltzed up to me and told me I was going to be one!" Standing up, Skye looked down at Bastila, her voice escalating in volume as she ranted, "I want control over my life! And with you, it doesn't seem like I'm going to have any! The **_only_** reason I am doing this is because I know how much more useful I will be to this mission! But it doesn't seem like I will be, at least with the Force, does it?"

Bastila gazed up at her serenely. "Perhaps you simply expect too much too soon. You must walk before you can run."

Skye matched her gaze, carefully replying, "But in times of danger, it is foolish to walk."

Bastila stood, quoting, "Good things come to those who wait."

"But only what's left over by those who get there first," Skye retorted, pushing back a wave of golden-brown hair. Her sky blue eyes held a challenge, daring Bastila to annoy her further.

Bastila did not rise to the bait, however. Crossing her arms, she allowed a smirk to cross her features, asking, "What is it that you don't like about me Skye?"

Crossing her own arms, Skye just looked at her, saying, "You want a list?" When Bastila was silent, Skye shrugged. "Okay. First of all, I could do without _your_ attitude. I try to be a nice person, and I can get along with almost everyone. But when somebody goes around acting like a stuck-up, prissy, Jedi princess, I tend not to like them very much."

Bastila's eyes widened as she furiously hissed, "I do **_not_** act like that!"

Amused, Skye shook her head. "Just what do you call expecting everyone on the ship to do exactly as you say, to bow when they enter your presence, and to call you Master Jedi?"

Scowling, Bastila furiously replied in hushed tones, "The title of Jedi is one that deserves respect! I am maintaining the image of dignity for the Jedi Order!"

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, we are all here as a **_team_**. No one, not even you, is better than anyone else. And until you get over that fact, we aren't going to be able to do any good for the galaxy, the Republic, or your precious _Order_."

Giving a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, Bastila decided to repay the harsh words with another form of hurt. "Well, if I'm really that bad, why not go ask Mical to help you? Perhaps he can get your Force-wielding abilities up to those of a five-year old's."

Skye rolled her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Bastila raised her eyebrows in a false expression of surprise. "Oh? He didn't tell you, even when he knew you were going to be a Jedi? I suppose he didn't trust you…not that I blame him." Smiling nastily, she sauntered out of the room, leaving Skye to stare after her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rekken lay prostrate on a worn-out couch in the crew's lounge. The _Eagle_'s lounge sported many different pieces of furniture, all facing the center where a holovid player was located. The furniture was old and dusty, but the holoplayer was up-to-date with the latest 3-d sound projection.

The soldier had just begun to get comfortable when Bastila stormed into the room with a datapad and plopped down on a chair.

The Sergeant sat up and called, "Hello there, Bastila."

"It would be _Master Jedi_ to you. Oh, and I also recommend bowing, grunt." Bastila's face was ice cold as she looked up from her datapad.

"Kiss my ass if you expect me to get off this couch to satisfy your pathetic power trip, schutta." Rekken beamed at the Jedi with a huge smile and went back to lying down.

"You know who you remind me of?" Rekken continued as he stared at the ceiling. "This one Lieutenant who got assigned to my squad. We heard so much crap coming from him that didn't make any sense. On the first mission, he got five of us killed, so we decided that if we wanted to make it through the war, he'd have to go. On the next mission someone _accidentally _threw a thermal detonator into the room he was clearing. Funny thing is, Command never asked about him when we came back without the guy. They probably agreed with our judgment."

Rekken checked the Jedi's reaction to see her staring at him with her mouth dropped open.

"That's horrible," she said in complete and utter shock.

"Nah, it's called a good idea. Believe it's the reason I'm still here."

Bastila continued to stare, horrified. Voros grinned. He had figured her out already. She believed she was going to be the greatest of them all - war would be easy for _her_! It was filled with honor and glory! Then, when she hears about how fun it really is, she's scared to all hell.

"Oh, and I hope you don't mind, but I'm still the leader of this party. I didn't visit the Jedi to have some half-wit, stuck up, schutta Jedi princess to come aboard and replace me. Ok?" Rekken's voice was clearly irritated.

"No, I believe it would be better if _I _took command of this expedition, Sergeant. Jedi always _do _make better leaders."

"Really? Ok, here's a good question for you. Imagine you and the rest of the party are surrounded by Sith with repeating blaster rifles in a 50 meter radius. What do you do?"

"I would sit in the center and use my healing abilities through the Force to help anyone who was injured."

An audible laugh escaped through the throat of the Sergeant. "Ahahaha! That's the funniest damn thing I've ever heard! You're kidding me, right?"

"No, of course not. Why would I joke about such serious matters? What exactly would _you _do, Sergeant?"

"Ok, first things first. Your little Jedi healing thing isn't going to help dead people. Repeating blaster rifles would tear us to shreds if we stayed in one spot. We would all have to hit one part of the surrounding line, preferably the weakest, and break out of the circle. This would let us focus our attacks on one side of us. Damn, that was supposed to be an easy question."

"Well, perhaps I do not possess the military training that you have, Sergeant. You have my sincerest apologies." Bastila's eyes fell to the floor.

"Ah, it's alright. You'll get the hang of it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I can't believe him!" fumed Jada. "I mean, can you honestly blame me for hitting him?" She cast an annoyed glance at Skye. "Hey!" She snapped her fingers by Skye's ear. "Are you even listening to me?"

Startled, Skye looked up from her bunk where she had been picking at the blanket. "What? Oh, sorry. I'm just…thinking. And yeah, I would have hit him too." Grinning a little, Skye asked, "Why did you even let him kiss you in the first place?"

Jada could feel her face redden. At least Skye seemed to be a little more cheerful, since her eyes were twinkling mischievously. "Look, I don't know. Maybe because he's hot, maybe because he's exciting, but _either way_, I am through with him."

"You know, maybe you like Atton so much because he _is _different. He isn't one of those stuffy rich guys that you used to date. Maybe you need a little danger, a scoundrel."

"I DO NOT like him!" Jada screeched. At Tena's irritated expression as she looked up from some data she was working on, Jada winced. "Oooh, sorry," she apologized. Without acknowledging Jada's apology, Tena went back to her work.

"Whatever," muttered Jada. "Anyway," she continued, turning her attention to Skye once more, "Atton is history as far as I'm concerned."

Smirking, Skye looked at her disbelievingly. "You said the same thing the last time you complained to me about Atton. And look what's happened since then."

"What I want to know," interjected Tena, "is why you were messing around with him when you should have been working."

Jada and Skye exchanged glances.

"Excuse me?" Jada said coldly.

Tena looked up at her appraisingly. "Duty should be your primary concern," she reprimanded severely. "And in allowing yourself to waste time satisfying your own desires, you failed in your duties to the wounded."

"I don't remember asking your opinion," Jada glared.

"Yet, there you have it," Tena replied calmly.

"Well," Jada said, restraining herself. She flashed a pained smile at Skye. "So, how's your life? Jedi training going well?"

Skye made a sound halfway between a laugh and a cry. "Not only do I have virtually no talent with using the Force, but I also have the most unforgiving teacher in the galaxy!"

Jada made a sympathetic face. "I don't envy you being trapped with Bastila, oh excuse me - _Master Jedi_."

Skye chuckled reluctantly. "At least I convinced her to let me stop calling her that."

"So," Jada began cautiously, twirling a lock of her glossy ebony mane about her finger, "does this mean you aren't going to be a Jedi?" A secret part of her hoped that Skye wasn't going to be. As ashamed as she was of the feeling, Jada couldn't help being a little jealous at the fact that Skye would become one of those legendary warriors. Truth be told, Jada felt rather useless.

Skye let out a long breath. "No," she sighed. "Bastila is still going to train me. I'm going to be very good at lightsaber combat, apparently. Still, I don't think I'll be getting a lightsaber anytime soon," she finished a little ruefully.

They fell silent. Skye seemed to have something bothering her. "Jada?" she asked hesitantly.

"What?" Jada responded, a little glumly.

"Do you think," she began quietly, "that Mical doesn't trust me?"

Jada turned to look sharply at her friend. Skye looked miserable. "Of course not! Why would you say that?"

"Ah, something Bastila said," Skye mumbled.

Jada snorted. "Don't listen to that schutta!" When Skye continued to look dejected, Jada elbowed her. "If it bothers you that much, go _ask_ him."

"I couldn't do that," Skye protested.

"Fine. I will," Jada said, starting to get up.

"No!" Skye said in a strangled voice, pulling Jada back down. "I'll…I'll go talk to him," she said, eyeing Jada warily.

Jada grinned horribly. "You do that. And maybe, just maybe, I won't ask you _why_ you care so much."

Skye looked at her desperately. "Jada, _no_," she begged. "It is _nothing_ like that."

"I should hope not," Tena stated baldly. "I wouldn't want to see you start to callously ignore your duties as well."

A garbled sound emitted from Jada's throat. "_Go_, Skye, before I kill her."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I hope this room fits your needs, Lord Vilad," the shaking bridge officer sputtered.

"Good, very good. It is adequate. Now leave me."

The officer obeyed the order with haste, sprinting for the open door.

Vilad's room was small and simple, the perfect place to reflect on the Dark side.

The Sith Lord sat with his eyes closed.

_Revan, such an interesting specimen. He believes he is the superior Sith Lord in this chaotic world. He would be very easy to manipulate to my cause. With all the power I hold, I could easily control the galaxy with a twitch of my hand. Funny, Revan did not believe me when I told him this. Just as I expected of such weak-mindedness. He believes I am just another over-confident Sith like himself. I will turn this galaxy into my little game. I will corrupt those around me to climb to supremacy, it will be a very interesting game. This Revan fellow thinks I am a brute that can be counted on and never think for himself. Burning Eres III has created this image for myself and now as they think they're in control, it will be I who has control._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Skye wandered about the _Scarlet Eagle_ looking for Mical, not completely sure that she actually wanted to find him.

"Hey!" greeted Vohn cheerfully. He smiled jauntily at her. "What'cha doing?"

"Hi, Francis," she replied. She was one of the very few people who could get away with calling him that. "I was just looking for Mical. I needed to talk to him about something."

"Oh. Brainiac dude's in medbay," Vohn said, jerking a thumb behind him. "And I like to be called Vohn, okay?"

"Sorry! I keep forgetting. And thanks," Skye smiled at him.

"No problem," Vohn winked as he continued on past her.

Skye resumed walking. Peering into the medbay, sure enough, she found Mical busy with organizing the supplies.

Coughing slightly to announce her presence, she entered the room. Mical looked up, and seemed surprised, though not unhappy, to see her. "Skye! Is there something you need?"

Skye hesitated. As she cast about for a way to begin this impossible conversation, Mical stood at a respectful distance, waiting patiently for her to begin.

At last, Skye blurted, "Mical? Are you, I don't know, a _Jedi_?"

Mical froze. "I have a history with the Order, yes," he said finally.

When he volunteered no more information, Skye asked, "Why didn't you tell me, especially when you knew _I _was going to be a Jedi?"

"Well," he began reluctantly, "my history as a Jedi is not something I like to admit."

"Why not?" Skye demanded. "Jedi are amazing! They…"

"…remain detached from the suffering of fellow sentient beings, refusing to lend a hand where needed," he finished quietly.

"That's not true," Skye scoffed. "They may have been a little late to help in the Mandalorian Wars, but at least they're helping the Republic now."

"Only because now _they_ are threatened as well," objected Mical with a bitter smile. "What is it you wish to know? That I too once worshipped the Jedi as heroes, as conquerors of injustice and suffering? That I left the Order before Revan did because of their refusal to help in the Mandalorian Wars, even though so many innocents on the Outer Rim were dying and desperately needed help?"

"I am not able to feel the Force as I once did," he admitted. "Perhaps with training, I could learn to feel it once more. But it is not something I want."

He looked down as Skye processed everything he had said. Glancing up with a small smile, he asked softly, "And now that you know of my somewhat troubled history, will you permit me to ask a question of my own?"

"Of course," Skye acquiesced. "I suppose it's only fair."

"Well," he began slowly, "I was simply curious as to whether you were alright." Looking at her with concern in his gentle blue eyes, he continued. "You seemed to be troubled a few days ago when we were in the security room. I hope I did not offend you in some way," he said earnestly.

"Oh, Mical, no," Skye said hastily. "It was not you. It's just that…" She faltered, at a loss for words. "I…can't say why. But I have my reasons," she finished sadly.

"I'm sorry Skye. I should never have asked," Mical said worriedly.

Skye shook her head, trying to clear the tears constricting her throat. Mical looked on helplessly as she regained her composure. Looking up, she smiled at him. "Don't worry about it. And don't blame yourself!" she said, shrewdly guessing exactly what he was thinking.

Mical slowly nodded, wishing he dared to move closer to her, to comfort her. However, in her current state, and especially considering the security room incident, it would probably be most unwise. Instead he settled for gazing into her eyes, offering an apologetic smile. Her face reddened slightly, though she returned the smile. Her beautiful, sparkling blue eyes entranced him, drawing him in. For once, he was at a complete and utter loss for words.

"Skye?" came a crisp female voice, breaking the moment. Skye looked up to see Bastila, looking somewhat contrite. "Look, I know I haven't been the best teacher, but…" She stopped, looking from Mical to Skye. "I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?" she inquired suspiciously.

"No," Skye replied, to Mical's immense disappointment.

"Hmm, good." Bastila's eyes held fiery daggers for the brief moment she looked into Mical's. _Traitor, don't **dare** to take my student away from me!_

"Well, as hard as this is for me to say, I simply wanted to tell you that I am sorry," Bastila continued. "I sometimes forget that not everyone has grown up as a Jedi and that it is not an easy life to embrace. I know I've been an awful teacher, but I'm hoping that we can give it another chance. Maybe we can even have fun with it!" she laughed, an uncharacteristically girlish smile crossing her face.

"Oh please," Skye grinned. "I'm sure I wasn't an easy student to put up with. So, I'm sorry too. And I'm definitely up for making those lessons _a lot_ more fun."

"Hey," she exclaimed, her face lighting up. "Does this mean I can have a lightsaber?"

Bastila gave her a _look_. "No. You still need to learn patience."

Skye was about to protest, but stopped, instead summoning control over herself. "Yes Master," she replied devilishly.

"Oh, call me Bastila! Let's go!" Bastila commanded imperiously, taking Skye's arm and marching her out the door, the two girls dissolving into hysterical fits of laughter.

Mical watched them leave, shadows of hurt creeping along his downcast face. Had he not just poured his heart out to Skye, telling her why he did not approve of the Jedi? And yet she had still gone with Bastila, never pausing to consider what he had told her? Did his thoughts and ideas really hold so little value to her?

Somehow, the chocolate-colored bottle of antiseptic liquid he was holding had never looked less interesting. Rubbing a thumb over the label absentmindedly, he tried to gather his thoughts and erase the emotions running through his mind, the feelings for Skye he was not sure he was ready to admit to just yet. Feelings he didn't think she would ever be able to or even want to return.

Was there a reason he should care about what she thought as much he did? He didn't think so, unless…This was ridiculous! He hadn't even known her for very long! Running a hand through his mass of blond hair, Mical stared off to some unseen place. As much as he tried to deny himself, he _knew_. He knew that Skye Karas would always and forever hold him under her charm, even if she never reciprocated his feelings. He, (dared he say it?), he…no, he could not admit such a thing yet. He could be wrong, couldn't he?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jada silently stalked the pathways of the _Scarlet Eagle_. A liquid shadow, always moving unseen…

"Jada? What are you doing?" asked Pvt. Jon Menski, his boyish face a little confused and more than a little apprehensive.

"Aaarghhh!" Jada choked out, hitting the wall in frustration, earning a sore hand for her troubles and scaring away the very timid Menski in the process. Okay, so maybe she wasn't exactly a liquid shadow just yet. But she'd get there. She had decided that she was _not_ going to be the only one on this ship who didn't have some kind of fighting skill. Even Robert was handy with a blaster!

She had done some thinking, and she knew exactly what she wanted to learn – the ways of the bounty hunter. A skilled assassin and trained killer would be very useful to this mission. As useful as, well, Skye, the soon-to-be Jedi.

So, Jada had taken to sneaking around the ship, with varying degrees of success. She had observed Bastila and Skye, sparring together and laughing like the best of friends. _**That** was a change_. Skye _was_ very good too, probably due in no small part to her dancing abilities. Jada had always wondered where Skye had learned to dance, but her friend was remarkably silent about the subject.

Jada had also caught Vohn sneaking glances at Atton's more _questionable_ magazines. She had gleefully seized the magazines from him, leaving Vohn slightly embarrassed and _very_ annoyed.

She had also been able to sneak past Mical in medbay, but that wasn't saying much since he hadn't seemed to be aware of anything outside of his own thoughts. Jada wondered if Skye had talked to him yet.

On the other hand, when she had tried to move stealthily past Rekken, he had laughed at her, rudely informing her that a stampede of cannoks made less noise. Tena also had heard her right away. _Annoying schutta_, Jada thought sourly. She still wasn't quite over the remarks Tena had made to her earlier.

Obviously, she couldn't do this by herself. She was going to need a teacher, and she knew just who she could blackmail – AHEM! – _ask._

Leaning casually into the cockpit, Jada watched as Atton beat Robert in a round of pazaak. Robert stared accusingly at Atton, vehemently sputtering oaths and mutterings about "disrespectful young'uns". Atton just smiled, leaning back and glancing at Jada.

"So, babe, couldn't stay away from me, huh?" he winked.

Jada gave him a cool smile. "In your dreams, Rand," she replied breezily. "As it so happens, I have a proposition to make."

"A proposition?" Atton leered, leaning closer to her.

Jada backed up a step, just out of his reach. "Whoa, cool your engines flyboy. It's not _that_ type of proposition."

"Then what is it?" Atton asked, wrinkling his face in disgust as he shuffled his pazaak deck.

"My father is a rather prominent senator," Jada began. "Senator Byre, to be exact."

"Translation: A corrupt, self-serving individual," Atton interrupted.

"Oh no, not quite," smiled Jada. "He _also_ looks out for his daughter. And when his daughter is upset, he likes to take action."

"What are you getting at?" asked Atton nervously, finally starting to take the conversation seriously.

"Look," said Jada. "If he ever finds out what you did to me, he will be extremely displeased. And by displeased, I mean he'll take your ship and dig up every bit of dirt on you that he can find, (and I've no doubt there's a lot of it). And then he'll throw you in prison."

For a fleeting moment, Jada thought she saw a dark, evil flame take over Atton's eyes, and she was frightened. But it passed so quickly, she was sure it must have been a dream.

"He can't do that," said Atton, not sounding very sure at all.

Jada smiled sweetly. "Is that a chance you're willing to take?"

Atton heaved a long-suffering sigh and threw himself onto the pilot's seat, defeated. "What do you want?"

"I want to learn to be a bounty hunter," Jada said simply. "I want to contribute to this mission, and I _know_ you know an awful lot of what I'd need."

"You would kill?" Atton asked disbelievingly.

"If I had to," Jada replied seriously.

Measuring her up, Atton was finally satisfied and nodded. "Alright then," he said quietly. "We'll be partners – of a sort."

"But that _doesn't_ mean you can touch me!" Jada warned, glaring at him.

Atton flashed her his most charming, roguish grin. "Whatever you say, sweetheart. You want to start now?"

"Fine. Meet me in the common room," Jada called, exiting the cockpit.

Atton stood, stretching. "What just happened?"

"I'd say the woman just blackmailed you," Robert chortled over a bottle of juma. "You have to give Jada credit. She _knows_ how to get what she wants."

"Yeah, whatever, old man," Atton mumbled.

Robert just beamed. "Get going, lackey."


End file.
